


Spirit

by Rose_of_Pollux



Series: Inktober for Writers 2018: Hurt/Comfort edition [14]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 19:07:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16310957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_of_Pollux/pseuds/Rose_of_Pollux
Summary: Part 3 of 3.  Illya rescues Napoleon in mid-experiment, and wonders if he will be the same Napoleon he knows and loves when he awakens.





	Spirit

Three weeks had gone by since his capture, and after being denied food and sleep for most of that time, the THRUSHies announced that the brainwashing experiment was ready to begin.

He was too weak to resist as they dragged him to their lab and strapped him to the table. They placed electrodes all over his face and head, and they began. It was electroshock treatments, coupled with auditory and visual stimuli—audio and video of THRUSH founders and leaders reciting their cruel doctrines as the electric pulses coursed through Napoleon’s body, as though trying to rewire him…

And then, a loud explosion shook the building, and the power went out, stopping it all. Napoleon was out cold, not having slept in two weeks.

As the THRUSHies scrambled to get things working again, they neglected to notice Illya having breached their security, striking all of them down with a vengeance before unhooking Napoleon from the machines and taking him back to U.N.C.L.E. HQ.

It was after arriving at Medical that they gave him the bad news.

“There is no telling if and how much the THRUSH conditioning affected him,” the head doctor said. “We cannot release him, especially since you say you didn’t arrive in time to prevent the process from starting…”

Illya protested loudly as the Medical staff shackled Napoleon’s arms to the bed, and then his ankles.

“This is absolutely unnecessary!” he insisted. “Napoleon has resisted all forms of THRUSH control before—why should this be any different!?”

“Because he was starved and sleep-deprived prior to the conditioning, and severely weakened as a result,” the doctor explained. “It is very unlikely that he had the strength to resist this time. You must be prepared for the worst, Mr. Kuryakin—he might awaken completely with no knowledge of you or U.N.C.L.E—or worse, he may awaken thinking he is a member of THRUSH.”

“…Any conditioning can be reversed, can’t it?” Illya asked.

“If the psychological and physical trauma from the pre-conditioning treatment was severe enough… it might change him—permanently.”

The doctor then walked off, leaving a devastated Illya behind.

“This cannot be happening,” he said to the unconscious Napoleon. “Not after everything I went through to find you…!”

But the more he looked at his partner, stick-thin and with his features sunken, the more his heart broke.

“I should never have let them take you,” he said, softly. “And I should have found you sooner—relied on our bond sooner rather than facts and figures and logic…” He stopped, his voice beginning to crack. “Napoleon…. I love you. Please, please wake up as your real self… Please don’t change from that person I love so much…”

He gently kissed Napoleon on the forehead, and then proceeded to sit and wait, continuing to talk softly to him.

At last, Napoleon stirred; Illya watched with a pounding heart as Napoleon’s eyes opened. Napoleon grunted in confusion as he tried to move his arms and legs and found that he couldn’t do so.

“Napoleon…?” Illya asked.

Napoleon turned to the sound of his voice, staring at him with an unreadable expression at first—an expression that broke Illya’s heart to see.

Napoleon blinked a few times.

“Illya…?” he murmured at last. “Why am I… chained to the bed?”

Illya’s relief was so great; he couldn’t even answer at first—he just swooped down and grabbed his partner in a hug.

“It’s a long story,” he said, practically laughing and crying at the same time as he then moved to unlock Napoleon’s handcuffs.

“I’m sure I’ve… got time to listen…” Napoleon said, sighing in relief. “Just… get me something to eat first, huh?”

“Of course I will,” Illya promised. “Something light, however; you haven’t eaten in a while, and you don’t want to tax your stomach.”

The story could wait until Napoleon had finally gotten some food in him after so long—Illya knew from experience that an IV drip, though necessary, did nothing to aid the pangs of hunger.

More than that, Illya was just glad knowing that THRUSH had failed again—and that, after it all, at the end of the day… he and his partner were still together.


End file.
